


The Phantom Passenger

by redcandle17



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 11:57:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2467475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully gets dragged along when Mulder goes looking for ghostly hitchhikers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Phantom Passenger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlerobbergirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlerobbergirl/gifts).



The roads were arrow-straight in this part of the vast rural Midwest. Three left turns would take you back the way you came. Scully switched on her flashlight and shone it at the map. She was right. "Mulder, you're taking us back onto the same stretch of highway."

Even she could hear the suspicion and warning in her voice. She didn't entertain the possibility that Mulder had gotten them lost. She knew him better than that. And sure enough when he replied his tone was wheedling. 

"Scully, I've had reports about activity in this area."

Scully sighed wearily. She'd been looking forward to a nice long bath and a good night's sleep before beginning another round of interviewing farmers who'd ordered too much fertilizer. 

"Mulder, we're not assigned to the X files anymore," she reminded her partner for what had to be the hundredth time. 

"I know, Scully. But since we're in the area..."

"What sort of activity is it this time? Bright lights in the sky? Shapeshifting aliens? Abductions?"

"This isn't about aliens. Why do you assume everything that interests me has to do with aliens?"

She chose not to answer that.

"They're called phantom passengers," Mulder began explaining.

Scully tried not to lose her temper. She massaged her temples to help soothe herself. "Mulder, I wrote a paper on urban legends in college."

Rather than being discouraged, this information only seemed to make Mulder more upbeat. "Then you know there's a long history of people picking up hitchhikers, only to arrive at their destination and find themselves alone in their car!"

"A phenomenon easily explained by tired, sleep-deprived drivers alone on long drives. It's been proven that extended periods without sleep can cause people to experience hallucinations." Scully paused before adding, "And some people just make stories up to scare their friends or garner attention in their communities."

"Two weeks ago a man was driving home when he stopped for a lone female hitchhiker who asked for a lift into the next town. She was very quiet and gave terse answers to his questions. When he arrived at the twenty-four hour diner in town, however, and announced 'we're here' to his passenger, he realized she was gone. Now, Mr. Santos is a respected local judge - hardly the type to make up stories for attention."

Scully was unmoved. "Where was he driving home from?"

"A bar," Mulder confessed. "But he doesn't drink. He goes there to play darts with friends." 

"Uh-huh," she murmured skeptically. 

"I did some research and it turns out that a thirty-five year old woman was struck and killed by a hit-and-run driver just outside the same diner forty years ago. She was a waitress who'd just finished her shift. What if her spirit never left? What if she's been haunting this highway, searching for the driver who hit her?"

"Mulder, there's no such thing as ghosts," Scully insisted, although she was less certain of it now than she'd been before working on the X files. 

Mulder expounded on the subject of ghosts, spirits, and apparitions for the next fifteen miles. Scully tried to remember whether she'd paid her cable bill. She might have left the envelope with the check by the phone. She'd been about to run errands when she'd received the call from Kersh ordering her on a plane to Nebraska. 

"Stop the car!"

Mulder slammed the brakes so quickly that Scully pitched forward and was thrown back by her seatbelt. "What?" he demanded - and then he noticed what she'd spotted before him. "The ghost," he exclaimed excitedly.

"Not your ghost," Scully scoffed. "Not unless your thirty-five year old waitress has transmogrified into a fourteen year old boy. He's probably a runaway." 

Mulder had lowered their windows. "Need a lift?" he called. 

Scully held up her badge for the boy to see. "We're FBI agents. It's okay. You're safe with us."

"How do I know you're really FBI and you didn't just buy that somewhere?" The boy was trying to sound tough, but his fear was obvious to her.

"Statistically, you're far less likely to be victimized by a stranger than by someone you know. Furthermore, it's almost unheard of for a man and woman working together to victimize a male."

The boy gave Mulder the sort of look she'd seen many, many people give him. "You don't have kids, do you, mister?" 

"Do you want a ride or not, kid? It looked like you were trying to hitch a ride."

"If you're FBI, shouldn't you be trying to arrest me? I've heard hitchhiking is illegal."

"Arresting hitchhikers isn't a priority for the bureau," Scully said dryly. And thank God for that because if it was, Assistant Director Kersh would have given them the job. "But we do feel compelled to make sure you're safe. How old are you?" 

"Eighteen," the boy lied. "I was just trying to get to my girlfriend's house. She lives in the next town and my car's in the shop." 

"Hop in," Mulder urged. 

The boy climbed into the backseat of their sedan. "Thanks. I'm Ricky, by the way."

The fifteen miles to the next town passed uneventfully. Ricky asked if they'd seen _Men in Black_ , then thought Mulder was joking when he began to explain all the ways the movie had gotten the alien conspiracy wrong. 

"Let me out here and I'll walk the rest of the way. Sarah's parents might up wake if they hear the car."

"If you need help," Scully started to say.

Ricky interrupted her. "I'm fine, lady - I mean, agent. I didn't run away from home or anything."

They watched him walk towards a house at the distant end of the lane before Mulder made a u-turn and they continued on to their motel. 

"Good night, Mulder," Scully said, before they went into their separate rooms. "Sorry you didn't catch your ghost."

"There's always tomorrow tonight. Sweet dreams, Scully." 

 

Three weeks later...

 

"Scully, come look at this!" 

Mulder wouldn't sound this excited about anything relating to their current case. Scully sighed and prepared herself for grainy pictures purporting to be of Bigfoot or something equally ludicrious.

Instead up on the computer monitor was a photo of the boy they'd picked up on the highway in Nebraska. 

"So he was a runaway," Scully said. She felt bad they hadn't taken him to the local authorities. His family must be worried.

"No, he told the truth." Mulder's smile grew wider. "Ricky Heineman often snuck out of his house and hitchhiked to visit his girlfriend, whose parents had forbidden her to see him. Six months ago he was struck by a vehicle and left to die. They found him the next morning right around where we picked him up. He was fifteen years old." 

Mulder jumped out of his chair and pumped his fist in the air happily. "It happened, Scully! We had our own phantom passenger experience!"

Scully's brain felt scrambled for a moment. Then she got hold of herself. If this was a case and she'd had to file a report on it, she would have written: _Although it is true that Agent Mulder and I did pick up an adolescent white male hitchhiker who gave his name as Ricky, I cannot say for absolute certainty whether it was the ghost of Ricky Heineman. There was some resemblance between the two boys, but it was dark and the residents of the area are descended from common ancestors, which increases the likelihood that two different boys could look so alike._

"Mulder, a young boy is dead under tragic and preventable circumstances."

"But think of what this means. His parents-"

Scully leveled a look at her partner that made him squirm. "Mulder, you're not suggesting that the possibility that their dead teenage son is haunting a highway will _comfort_ Ricky Heineman's parents?"

Mulder looked abashed. "I suppose not."

Scully felt slightly guilty about spoiling his glee. But only slightly. "Come on, Mulder. Kersh wants us to go to Missouri. I'm sure you'll find clues pointing to the existence of Sasquatch while we're there."

Mulder gave her a superior smile. "Scully, Sasquatch has never been sighted as far east as Missouri. But there's a devil's chair in a cemetery in Kirksville where it's said hands from beyond will reach out to you if you're sitting in it at midnight."

"I can't wait," Scully said dryly. She was already wondering how they'd explain their inevitable detour to Accounting.

**Author's Note:**

> Your request for urban legends or ghost stories grabbed my attention when I was browsing the list of requests. I'm a longtime fan of The X Files but I've never written fic for it before. I hope I did a decent job.


End file.
